Cedas greeted me with a head shake and a wagging finger. "Really, young Geoffrey, I sometimes wonder if you use that head of yours. What possessed you to think the prince could accompany you with no escort? He may be overlooked by most of the family, but what have I told you about Pendragons and their obsession with how they appear?"

"I did wonder," I spoke up, rather defensively I must admit. "But I couldn't think of a way to ask the Prince if he was aware he was doing the wrong thing."

Cedas leaned back in his chair. "Well, you do make a good point there, dealing with royalty often presents these difficulties. You're fortunate Prince Kentigern has a conscience and appealed on your behalf, otherwise I may have had to farewell a very promising student."

I might have blushed a little at the praise, but then I remembered.

"The Crown Prince couldn't protect me completely from punishment, I'm to go to the stocks at midday from now to Samhain."

I was rather offended when Cedas chuckled, yes chuckled at this news, it was the least bit amusing as far as I was concerned. I had to wonder if he was going to come along, perhaps throw a thing or two or join in with the jeers.

My feelings must have shown on my face for he immediately told me to calm down. "My sense of humour is a bit juvenile, I admit that, it's not directed at you personally."

That didn't really make the situation any better, but he was trying at least.

"Besides, it's all together possible the King's ire will wane long before Samhain, in the meantime I'm more than happy to give you time off during the day so you may bathe after your ordeal."

Well that was appreciated and I thanked Cedas effusively for his thoughtfulness until he held up a hand and asked me to stop.

I suppose I was being ridiculously emotional, so I calmed down and Cedas and I got to work on those scrolls that had arrive from Corfe. So much information to take down and sort! It was almost enough to make me forget my punishment, at least until ten minutes before the noon bells rang when a guard arrived at the library to escort me to my doom.

Think that's dramatic? Well, it probably is, but try and picture it, being forced to kneel on a hard wooden block and placing your neck and wrists across three small holes before the top portion is lowered into place and locked. After only a few moments your knees are beginning to ache and the holes in the wood only provide the smallest amount of movement. You can rest your wrists in the stocks, that is, if you wish to contend with your hands falling asleep as the circulation is cut off. And of course, you can't rest your head, if you do you start to choke very quickly indeed.

Then to top this marvellous situation off, townspeople come and stand before you offering no sympathy whatsoever, instead they throw all manner of rotten food stuffs at you and laugh at your sorry predictament.

And this continues for two hours.

I am sure you'll forgive me then not only my melodrama, but my preference to avoid writing about this incident...or incidents as the case was.

I don't believe they add that much to the story anyway.
Current Mood: uncomfortable
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